


Misconception

by maximum_overboner



Category: Villainous (Cartoon)
Genre: Body Horror, Breeding Kink, Degradation, F/M, Horror, Other, THIS IS A GRIM ONE FOLKS, Very very dark, he's very very evil here, i've set out to make black hat as vile and repulsive as possible, intense horror elements, noncon, noncon kink, really err on the side of caution here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-08
Updated: 2017-07-08
Packaged: 2018-11-29 08:05:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11436663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maximum_overboner/pseuds/maximum_overboner
Summary: It doesn't matter if you're not the person he's looking for, Black Hat certainly has a plan in mind for you.





	Misconception

**Author's Note:**

> if you thought i wouldn’t do something grim then you are a fool! a fool, i say! 
> 
> remember; take a good, long look at those warnings! welcome to hell! welcome to hell!

You walked down the street, quiet at this time of the morning, your feet squashing the gravel in smooth, easy steps. You breathed in the morning air, holding your bag, your lack of plans for the day affording you ease and comfort. The sky tinged a light blue and mottled with pink on the horizon was speckled with soft, scattered clouds, spread like icing sugar, drifting overhead. You took a deep breath, listened to the staccato chirps of the blackbirds, then felt yourself be pushed into a strange car and drugged with a hypodermic needle to the neck.

You awoke on a slab, your bag open on a table nearby. Your vision was blurred and the room stank of sanitation, of undiluted cleaning chemicals. You rushed to sit up but found your wrists and legs bound tightly.

“Awake, I see.”

The voice came from behind you, gritty, like eating sand, but you couldn’t see who it belonged to. You couldn’t speak, your tongue was too heavy, your lips like weights as you slowly came to your senses. Where were you, exactly? Indoors, in a bright room, but where?

A slender gentleman, not human by any stretch of the imagination, came into your view, running his hand along the side of the slab with worrying grace.

This did not bode well.

“Thought you could outwit me, did you.”

He chuckled and you had no idea what he was on about.

“Wh… What?”

“I have to afford you a certain degree of respect. It’s why I didn’t kill you outright, in the car. It would have been so easy. But I know a formidable foe when I see one, and I know when to tip my hat.”

He looked at you, doing so, revealing a slightly smaller hat underneath.

“But I don’t think I need to introduce myself,” he smiled.

Oh no.

You moved your head, looking for some clue as to where you were. You had seen this room before, in the background.

This was the man from the television.

“We’re an arrogant bunch, aren’t we,” said Black Hat.

He glided his hands to the stand to your right. You saw glimmers, you couldn’t make out what was on the table but you feared it to be scalpels. You thrashed your wrists against the straps but found no purchase.

“It’s so easy to lose sight of the fact that, someone, somewhere is plotting our demise. We become so caught up in the plotting ourselves. Well, not me. But you, certainly.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

“Don’t play coy! I know about your weapons deals, I know about your contacts, I know about _you!_ Thinking you were so sneaky, operating right under my nose, so arrogant! There’s only room for one superior creature here.”

“Please let me go, I don’t know anything!”

He pulled out a picture from his front pocket, shoving it in your face. It was a picture of a person that was exactly like you bar age, height, race and build.

“This looks nothing like me,” you said, baffled.

“Oh, the picture may be _different_ _!_ But I’m not naive, I’m not the only one that can change how I look, I’m sure of it. Villains are cunning; sly! Apart from you. We’ve been tracking your movements and my lackey is conducting a DNA analysis as we--”

On cue, the door opened. You heard soft, skittering footsteps growing closer. A man wearing a paper bag on his head, throwing worried looks at you, entered your periphery, Black Hat turned to face him.

“Good! You’re here.”

“Um, sir--”

“What kind of maiming device should I use? I’ve still to try my breast-ripper.”

“U-Uh--”

“Guess what it does.”

Black Hat was motioned away with a frantic hand gesture to the opposite end of the room. They were whispering, but you could make out what they were saying with some straining.

“That’s not her.”

“... What do you mean that’s not her.”

“It’s-- That’s a different person.”

“A different-- how did we get a different person; who is this?”

“I don’t know.”

_“You don’t know!”_

“I-- I don’t think she’s anyone.”

“This is just some random person?”

“I think so.”

“Go find the right one. Go, you idiot, go, go track!”

“Right away-- of course, sir! I’m sorry! What are you going to do with--”

You heard the shuffling of feet.

“-- I have something in mind.”

“Shouldn’t you let her go--”

“I will, get out, shoo, go be stupid in the other room.”  

With that, the door clicked shut. Your fear abating, you heard Black Hat make his way back to you, looming over your disdainfully.

“So instead of capturing a rival in a power play the likes of which will change the criminal underworld forever,” he said, “I’ve caught you. What were you doing?”

“I needed to return some books to the library.”

“Oh. Goodie. That will strike fear into the hearts of man.”

He grumbled, cursing under his breath and undoing the latches that held you to the table. You sat up slowly, unsurely, rubbing the sore marks on your wrists. He dismissed you with a hand gesture.

“Go on. You can go.”

You broke into a frantic sprint, throwing your legs in front of one another, throwing your way to the door. When you approached the threshold something wet and slimy grasped your leg and pulled you back to face Black Hat. He was calmly palming at a lump in his trousers, lazily resting his hand on his chin while the tentacle that had entrapped you melted to nothing.

“My, you’re persistent. Leave. Go on, get out.”

You sprinted again, throwing looks behind you, and were dragged back. Black Hat was rubbing harder, his legs wide, splayed for you to see.

“The door is right there,” he breathed, deeply aroused, and you choked back your tears. He was toying with you. He was toying with you and you would fall for it again and again, because what if he wasn’t lying.

You were at the mercy of something taunting. Inhuman. As inclined to lick your neck as he was to tear right through it.

“I gave you plenty of chances but you don’t want to leave at all, do you?”

“I do.”  

“Then prove it! The next time you try to leave really make a break for it, take your shoes off, get into a real run. Swing your arms. It’s better that way.”

“What are you going to do?”

“If you don’t make it I’m going to rape you.”

You choked, managing one step before he pulled your legs out from under you, your front battering against the floor.

“A good effort, commendable, but I think it’s time I had my fun. I can only watch you flounder for so long.”

Your heart, your throat, your mouth erupted into heat, every cell in your body awash with panic as it finally hit you; his circumstances were silly but he was not. You scrambled to think, to arrange your jumbled thoughts in an order but could only rely on blind, clumsy instinct, the thoughts of a mouse under the paw of a lion.

“You know,” he said, “my loyal viewers look to the incompetence of my _staff_ and assume I’m the same way. I’m not. I know how to go about my business and I know full well what evil is, even if nobody else here does. You. You’re going to _know_ it very well--”

He cupped your groin.

You lunged for a scalpel, driving it into his chest before pulling it out and puncturing it again, and again, dosed with adrenaline and fear. He looked at you before pulling it out and appearing no worse for wear, the wounds filling in like wet cement, flesh clumping thickly together before smoothing out. He looked more bemused than angry.

“Ooh. Cheeky.”

He grabbed you by the wrists and pinned you to the table he had made a show to free you from, not needing to exert even an ounce of his full strength to keep you down as you thrashed. He tore open his shirt and unzipped his trousers, and you caught a glimpse of something bilious and squirming, like a long, fat leech. It unfurled, wriggled. His talons made quick, messy work of the clothes of your lower half, leaving your thighs with stinging, weeping little lines.

“You didn’t even _try_ _,”_ he rasped, grinding his cock into your pelvis, sickly and cold. “The original plan was to torture some information out of you and then kill you, you would have been too dangerous to keep alive, but I don’t mind doing this instead.”

He parted your legs. He looked to your face, seeing the desperation in your eyes.

“Speak,” he said.

“Y--”

He shoved himself in as far as he could go, hilting himself in you and letting out a groan, juddering his hips. You attempted to fend him off as best you could.

“No fun with the restraints; I have to give you a chance! Go on, fight!”

You did, as hard as your could, scraping and beating and screaming, all for nought. He hooked your legs over his shoulders, bracing his hands to the table and fucking you brutally.

“Such spirit,” he breathed, “you’re going to be a good mare.”

… A mare?

… A _broodmare?_

Your blood ran cold, hearing the lurid slap of flesh on flesh as he grunted.

“I’ve been mulling on this for a while. Conception and the like; planting my little seeds. I was undergoing a routine checkup the other week and it occurred to me. I don’t know if I’m capable of doing that. I’m not human, God no, far from it, but I can make what I need to--”

He sped up to prove his point. You felt something slither up your leg and to your slit, as cold as the thing he was penetrating you with. You couldn’t bear to look at it.

“-- So I asked Flug-- the one with the bag on his head-- and he said ‘well Mr Handsome Black Hat Sir, I don’t know’. What sort of scientist doesn’t have an answer to something so--”

He crammed himself into you, grunting, and you hiccupped.

“-- Basic! So I thought on it. I can’t test it with him, I’m not going to do this with Dementia-- she would never give me peace-- but you’re as good an incubator as any. Arms, legs, feet, a womb, a nice plump cunt, you’re--”

This thrust was particularly gruesome. You brought your hand to your mouth, the spare tentacle prodding at you moved to your clitoris and you tried to slap it away.

“-- Perfect! Let it out. Come on.”

“Stop!”

“Oh stop whinging; some people would pay good money for this.”

“I have a family,” you begged.

He slowed, then stopped.

“... You do?”

“Yes,” you said, clinging onto any lifeline you could, “I do, I--”

“Any other women about your age?”

He squashed your breasts, appraising you like a cut of veal.

“You’re good stock.”

If your stomach weren’t empty you would have vomited. You gagged anyway.

“No.”

He shrugged.

“Oh well, I’ll find out anyway.”

He panted over you, his teeth jutting at odd angles and his breath stinking of putrid meat. His body was tense and lean, his abdomen concave against his jutting ribs, like a cadaver. He gently rubbed your stomach in a motion that was grotesquely intimate, tracing his talons around your navel, back and forth. It tickled.

“I don’t even really want a child. I just want to see if I can have one. It’s the not knowing that gets me.”

The tendril snaked and slithered over your clit until it thrummed firmly. You squeezed your eyes shut, your breath quickening as your body responded despite your repeated mental pleas for it to stop. He panted, opened mouth, over you, squeezing and groping and clawing at whatever he felt like, at his leisure. It didn’t occur to him to ask you about any of this because he wouldn’t ask a chair if it wanted to be sat on. You were a thing to be acted upon in his eyes, an extra in the play he perceived his life to be, with a flashy coat and long speeches.

“It wasn’t a prerequisite but you _are_ allowed to enjoy yourself,” he murmured, like tar in your ear. You blocked it out as best you could, blocked out everything, this situation and this day and this horrible, blood-curdling thing. It was too much, you tried, but you couldn’t.

You came, cursing him the entire time, doing what you could to speed up the process. He didn’t allow you reprieve, hammering into your cunt and pulsing the tendril alongside your clit until you were forced to ride it out, begging and sobbing, hips shuddering with every powerful, crushing wave of sensation. Why was this happening? He didn’t stop the movements, you were painfully overstimulated, kicking your legs as he continued his ministrations. Every movement forced an animalistic grunt from between his teeth until there was nothing but the sounds of his exertions and the noise of your body battering against the slab as he assailed you.

“You’re going to be fit to burst,” he huffed. “Like a balloon, when I'm done with you.”

His grin was as wide as it was lustful, his eyes rolling back. His skin began to shift. He cried out.

“Oh fuck, _fuck!”_

His form fell apart. His skin peeled back to reveal sinew, and underneath, eyes, and underneath, gnashing mouths and slavering gums, and underneath, something frilled and squirming like the underside of an infested mushroom. You didn’t know how to fight this thing. You got the feeling nobody alive did. He continued to thunder into you, his coos growing louder until it was abstruse and painful, it was every nail on every chalkboard in the world, every pair of scissors being driven into your eardrums and every medical instrument scraping at your bones all at once; virulent and screeching. Ragged and animalistic puffs, lecherous and violating intakes of breath as he mashed what was his face to yours and stole your air. The bones in your wrist creaked against the slab as the little self-control he had wavered. You knew this some grotesque parody of a kiss. You couldn’t protest. You couldn’t.

You couldn’t.

He let out a howl, a primal, baleful howl, and came in you. His cock swelled until it felt like he would tear you in half, locking him firmly in place as torrent after torrent poured into you as he climaxed the entire time. It wasn’t normal, not like a one night stand, or a tryst. His cum was thick and freezing, hideously alien, sapping the heat of your body with every rope.

Four minutes. It felt like four years. You came during that as well, lying still and tensing when appropriate. You stared at the halogen lights, letting it sear a circular pattern into the back of your eyes. You sobbed.

“Shh-- sh, sh--”

All you could do was lie there, under this thing. This awful, terrible thing.

“Shh-- stop that--”

It occurred to you he was shushing you. You didn’t care.

“What are you going to call it?”

You looked at him, bleary-eyed and confused. He scoffed, tracing slow patterns on your bare shoulder with his nail in a malformed, stunted attempt at pillow talk.

“The baby, you idiot. It better not inherit your smarts or I’m throwing it out and starting again.”

You remained silent. He rolled his eyes, exasperated.

“I’m doing you the favour here. I could call it whatever I want and there would be nothing you could do about it, but you’re the one that’s going to be staring at its little face every day so I’m giving you the honour. Be grateful.”

Your lips were moving, slowly, dryly, like dirt cracking under the sunlight, but the noises that came out meant nothing.

“Did I dislodge a blood clot, is this a stroke. What’s wrong with you.”

Your lips moved again, your throat so viscid that it felt as if you were choking back syrup. A hoarse, indistinct rattle.

“You can’t call it that, it’ll get bullied. You’re terrible at this. Whatever, I’ll do it, I’ll try and be there when it sloughs out of you, or something. I better not be busy the day you pop.”

You heard the door again.

Flug walked in, rambling about some sort of plan before spotting the two of you. He let out a gasp, you could hear his hands pressed to his mouth over the bag as he made a strange little noise, then heard him sprint out, slamming the door behind him.

You felt another sharp pain in your neck, slipping into unconsciousness once again. You faded out to the image of Black Hat sinking his hand on the plunger.

 

* * *

 

You awoke in the car, the interior blending together like slurry, like red foam that melted and crashed into itself. You could make out Flug in the driver’s seat and felt Black Hat to your left. Flug looked to the mirror, making eye contact with you.

“I’m s--”

Black Hat snarled at the intrusion.

“Don’t talk!”

Flug quailed but the shaking of his shoulders persisted. You hoped he would veer the car into a wall, killing the two of you. From his white-knuckle grip on the wheel you were inclined to think he was considering it.

Black Hat had an arm around your shoulder, playing affectionately with your hair and basking in a warm, comforting afterglow as you wished the cold ground would open up and grind him into a paste. The car came to a stop, he gently opened the door, then kicked you out of it onto the gravel. You didn’t know where you were, everything hurt.

“I’ll be back in a month to check on you. Don’t fret if it didn’t take this time, I’m more than happy to repeat my performance. Lock all your doors. Lock your windows. Install as many deadbolts as you can. Keep a knife under your pillow. Tell the police. Do as much as you can to stop me. That’s half the fun.”

He took a long draw of his cigarette, then stubbed it out on his tongue and threw it to the ground. He threw you a wink with the same dismissiveness.

“But don’t stress. It’s bad for the baby.”

He rolled up the window. Flug drove off, unable to look at you.


End file.
